Baby!Clex Fic (Temporary Title)
by PepperjackCandy
Summary: What if Lex had been left orphaned and destitute by the meteor storm and had grown up in the Lowell County foster care system? A baby!Lex/baby!Clark friendship fic
1. He Followed Me Home . . .

Title: Baby!Clex Story -- Chapter 1, He Followed Me Home . . .  
Author: PepperjackCandy  
Series: Probably.  
Archive : Smallville Slash Archive, my writing at fanfiction.net  
Rating: PG (Probably "G," but what the heck)  
Pairing: Clark/Lex  
Category: Friendship fic, for now. Archived at SSA under "AU," since "friendship" isn't an option  
Spoilers for: Nothing.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics.   
  
Feedback: Always welcome, either by e-mail or using the review system at fanfiction.net.   
  
A/N: Short version, the overall tale here is fluffy like little bunny rabbits. Complete and utter foof. It may have odd moments of angst, but generally if you want angst? Move along. Nothing to see here. This may or may not end up being a romance. When I started it, I actually envisioned a sort of Dawson/Joey thing here, but it may turn out that Martha has other ideas. We're currently in negotiations.  
  
Also, there was a tree in the playground of my grade school. It was at the far end of the building, down by the fifth and sixth grade classrooms. That's the tree that Lex is under at the start of this story.  
  
=======  
  
Envision a world in which Lex's parents were both in Smallville during the meteor storm, and they were both killed by a meteorite.   
  
Further, imagine that Lionel Luthor wasn't exactly the financial success his PR said he was. In actual fact, Lionel Luthor was a gambler, and he gambled with Lex's future. At the time of Lionel's untimely demise, Luthor Corp was operating at a serious deficit, and the entire Luthor family fortune went to paying off Lionel's business debts.   
  
So, orphaned and broke, little nine-year-old Lex has found himself at the mercy of the Lowell County foster care system . . . .  
  
=========  
  
Two weeks after the world ended, Lex Luthor returned to school  
  
Everything about the public school that his foster "parents" sent him to was unfamiliar to the boy, who had always gone to what his father had assured him were the very best private schools.  
  
Four o'clock that afternoon found Lex under a tree in the schoolyard, crying. He knew that his foster "parents," who were nothing like his real parents, so he didn't know why he was expected to name them such, were expecting him back at their house, but his wig was uncomfortable and he just wanted to go back home. Even though there he knew that there was no longer a home for him to return to.  
  
Lex sniffled loudly, hugging his knees to himself when a young boy, hardly older than four or five, walked up to him, regarding him solemnly.   
  
"What?" Lex snapped. "You come to stare at the freak?" With that, he grabbed the ill-fitting wig from his head and threw it at the boy, who merely let the offending object hit him and fall to the ground.  
  
"Go away." Lex ordered, pressing his face to his knees.  
  
When he looked up again, the boy was still there, staring at him with those impossibly blue eyes. Eyes that Lex couldn't look away from.   
  
Silently, the boy held out a hand.  
  
Lex took the proffered hand and stood unsteadily. A distant part of his brain knew he should pick up the wig from where it lay on the ground, but he stared at it like it belonged to someone else as he let the dark-haired boy lead him off the playground.  
  
They walked for what must have been miles, hand-in-hand. It felt somehow comfortable, sharing space with this strange, quiet boy. Like this boy was someone he'd waited nine long years to find again after a separation.   
  
Lex didn't think he'd ever walked as far as the boy took him, but strangely, the long walk didn't affect him. They reached a farmhouse that Lex had never seen before, and the idea of facing strangers made him nervous. The boy seemed to sense his anxiety, though, and tightened his grip on Lex's hand ever so slightly, wordlessly communicating reassurance.  
  
A beautiful auburn-haired woman, who reminded Lex of his own late mother, ran into the living room as they came through the front door. "Clark! Where've you been? I've been worried sick!" She grabbed the strange, quiet boy in a fierce hug, not noticing that the boy's hand was still connected to Lex's.  
  
Belatedly, the woman noticed Lex, and Lex's hand, still holding the boy's hand. "Who is . . ." her eyes widened, and Lex could hear her thinking _this is that boy. The Luthor boy. The freak who lost his hair -- and his parents -- in the meteor shower._ But the boy, Clark, merely tightened his grip on Lex's hand, and Lex drew strength from this peculiar, umbilical-like connection to withstand the woman's scrutiny.  
  
"You must be Lex Luthor." She gave Lex a smile that Lex couldn't see any falseness in, and said, "I'm Martha Kent, and this," she pointed to the boy, "is my son, Clark. Though I see you've met already." She looked pointedly at the two boys' linked hands.  
  
Lex put on his very best manners, still clutching Clark's hand in his, "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kent."   
  
Martha seemed startled by Lex's introduction. "I'm pleased to meet you, too." She said with as much aplomb as she could manage when talking to a nine-year-old boy with a death-grip on her apparently-mute son's hand.  
  
Lex looked at Clark, who merely looked back impassively. Then Clark smiled, and as Lex found himself returning Clark's smile, he realized that Clark had released his hand. And he hadn't even noticed.  
  
"Aren't the Johanssens looking for you?"  
  
Lex shrugged offhandedly. "They have three other . . . foster kids." He said the final two words as if it were a foreign concept to him, rather than his new way of life. "If Timmy hasn't set anything on fire yet, they might notice I'm missing."  
  
Martha seemed startled at Lex's boldness. But before she could respond, she heard the kitchen door slam shut. Her eyes widened and she quickly left the room.  
  
Jonathan was just crossing the kitchen towards the living room as Martha caught him. "He's home." She said in a whisper, hugging her husband tightly.  
  
Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief. "When'd he come home?" He whispered back as they released their embrace.  
  
"Just a few minutes ago."  
  
"Why are we whispering?"  
  
"Clark didn't come home alone." She motioned for her husband to follow her, and pointed into the living room.  
  
Lex and Clark were sitting crosslegged on the floor across from each other. Clark was rubbing his hand over Lex's bald scalp as if it were the most natural thing in the world.   
  
"Isn't that the Luthor kid?" Jonathan whispered.   
  
Martha nodded. "He followed Clark home. Or Clark led him home. I'm kind of sketchy on the how of it, but it's the strangest thing I've ever seen."  
  
"He really is as bald as the rumors say."  
  
"Not that. Them. It's like they understand each other or something." She sighed. "I'd better call Ira and Jolene and tell them that Lex is here. They're probably worried."  
  
Lex was enjoying having Clark touch his head. It had bothered him when others touched him. The wig certainly bothered him. It was uncomfortable and always made him feel like some kind of dead animal was strapped to his head. He was thinking how nice it was just sitting there without that wig on his head, just watching Clark examine his bald scalp like it was something miraculous.  
  
"Why are you so quiet?" Lex asked finally.  
  
"He doesn't talk." He heard a man's voice respond shortly and looked up to see a young blond man framed in the doorway of the living room. "He's been with us for two weeks," the man's eyes slid off of Lex momentarily, but then returned as if they'd never moved, "and he hasn't said a word since. The adoption is all but final."  
  
Lex cringed away from this man, too many memories of Lionel Luthor going through his head. But Clark turned to the blond man and smiled, and Lex relaxed a little. He knew that Clark wouldn't smile at the man if there was a reason to be afraid of him.  
  
Meanwhile, Martha was on the phone with Jolene Johanssen. "Jolene, I just wanted to let you know that Lex Luthor is over at our house."  
  
"Oh. I hoped he was all right. Timmy! Put that down, right now! I didn't see him with the others when they came home. Timmy, I'm only going to say this once. Should I come over and get him? Timmy . . ."  
  
"It's all right, Jolene. You sound like you have your hands full. Is it all right if Lex stays for dinner? Jonathan or I will bring him by afterwards, if that's all right with you."  
  
"Oh. Yes. That's fine. Joan, will you stop Timmy before he gets out . . . "  
  
With that, Martha found herself talking to the dial tone. She noticed that Jonathan had walked into the living room and went after her husband.  
  
Jonathan was perched on the edge of the sofa, watching Clark and Lex looking at each other. The strange communion between the two little boys was unchanged, and Jonathan seemed as baffled by it as she had been.  
  
"Lex?" She called out.  
  
"Yes, Mrs. Kent?"  
  
"I spoke to Mrs. Johanssen, and she said that you may stay for dinner, if you'd like."  
  
"Thank you. I'd love to." Again with the odd, too-grown-up mannerisms, like he was accepting an invitation to play bridge or croquet. "Would you like me to stay for dinner?" This was directed at Clark, who answered with a beatific smile.  
  
Martha, unwilling to stop watching this extraordinary boy with her son, wondered idly if a pizza would be cold by the time it reached the farm.  
  
But, knowing that it would be, if Luigi's was even open today - they kept odd hours - she headed for the kitchen, leaving Jonathan alone with the boys.  
  
Jonathan felt superfluous. He knew he shouldn't leave an approximately five-year-old alien alone with a strange bald nine-year-old, but they seemed so content, so self-contained, as they watched each other, that Jonathan just knew that they weren't going to get into any trouble.  
  
"Can you talk? Or do you not know how?" Lex asked Clark solemnly. "Do you speak English? Parlez vous Français? Sprechts du Deutsch? Hablas español?"  
  
Clark simply watched Lex. He appeared to be listening, but he didn't say a word.  
  
"I think you can talk. You just don't know our language. Maybe I can teach you." Lex said with simple innocence.   
  
Clark looked at his father, then looked back at Lex, silently asking Lex to follow him. Jonathan stood, as well, and stayed a few paces behind the boys as they walked outside. He could hear Lex talking, but couldn't hear what he was saying as Clark led Lex out towards the barn.  
  
"It's nice that you have a mom and dad." Lex said to his willing audience of one. "Mine died two weeks ago. The same day I lost my hair. Mrs. Johanssen, she's my foster . . . my foster mother, she says that another child's parents died the same day. A girl. Laura or," he paused, self-editing, "or something like that." He sighed. It felt good to let it out. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I used to live in Metropolis, and went to private school. I think I still have my uniform somewhere. I haven't really looked for it."   
  
They walked into the cool, dark confines of the barn. "Is this a barn?" Lex asked, then answered his own question. "Of course it is. That's a stupid question. I've just never been in a real barn before. You know, a farm barn, with cows and things. I've been in stables of course. My mom loved horses, so I've been riding as long as I can remember. Can you ride a horse?"   
  
Lex paused as if waiting for Clark to answer.   
  
"You've only been here two weeks. Hardly enough time to learn to ride Western, let alone English. And you're awfully young, anyway. I wonder where you lived before."   
  
Lex, allowing time for Clark's silent answer, shuffled his feet in the hay scattered on the floor, enjoying the rustling sound it made.   
  
Jonathan hung back, making sure the boys didn't venture too far into the barn, and keeping himself between the barn and the storm cellar, where Clark's space capsule was hidden. This Luthor kid seemed different from his father, but Jonathan wasn't going to take too many chances with family secrets.  
  
The two boys stepped farther into the barn, and Jonathan couldn't see them anymore. "Boys!" He called. "Come on out of there."  
  
"Yes, sir." He heard Lex's dutiful response followed almost immediately by the two boys stepping back out into the sunshine.  
  
The boys continued their odd, one-sided conversation. "I'm supposed to do homework tonight. But I left my books at school intentionally. If I have to wear that awful wig, I think I should be let out of doing my homework. Shouldn't I?"   
  
Lex looked at Clark.  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe not." Lex said as if Clark had answered him. "But maybe the teacher'll let it slide this once." He grinned at Clark as if they shared a secret.  
  
"Jonathan! Boys! Dinner!" Martha's voice called out from the back porch of the house.  
  
"Coming, Martha!"  
  
Jonathan waited, watching the distance between the Luthor boy and the storm cellar door, as the two boys walked, so close, nearly holding hands, into the house for dinner.  
  
"Go wash your hands, Clark. Show Lex where the bathroom is." Martha instructed her son as the two boys crossed the threshold into the kitchen.  
  
Wordlessly, Clark did as his mother bade, leading Lex down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom, where they washed their hands in companionable silence.  
  
"You're right." Jonathan said to his wife once they were alone. "Damnedest thing I ever saw. Like . . . telepathy or something."  
  
"Well, we've been hoping for someone, a peer, for Clark to bond to."   
  
"Yeah, and we got it. In spades."   
  
Martha kissed her husband quickly as the boys returned to the kitchen. "Go wash up. I'm not waiting dinner for you." She told him as she pushed him down the hallway towards the bathroom.  
  
Lex looked at the table assessingly. Martha had read enough etiquette books to know that he was trying to size up the 'head' and 'foot' of the table. "You can sit here." She indicated the normally-empty fourth chair at the table.   
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Kent." Lex said solemnly as he took a seat in the chair she had indicated. Clark, wordless as ever, slid into what had become his usual seat.  
  
Jonathan returned to the kitchen then, taking his seat as well. Martha put a large bowl filled with spaghetti and meatballs, covered with tomato sauce, in the center of the table.   
  
"Would you like some milk, Lex?"   
  
"Yes, please, Mrs. Kent."  
  
Martha poured two glasses of milk, one for Lex, the other for Clark, and placed the glasses in front of the boys. Then she took her seat.   
  
She could see Lex waiting patiently to find out how dinner was served in the Kent household. "Would you like to say grace, Lex?" Martha asked, just to check out the boy's reaction.  
  
"No, thank you, Mrs. Kent."   
  
"Jonathan?"  
  
Martha and Jonathan bowed their heads, leaving the two boys staring directly at each other, sharing identical expressions of bewilderment.   
  
_Apparently,_ Lex thought, _wherever Clark came from, they don't . . . say grace . . . either._  
  
Jonathan said, "For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."  
  
"Amen," Martha repeated quietly. She picked up the bowl of spaghetti and turned to Lex. "Would you like me to serve you?"   
  
"Yes, please."   
  
Martha served Lex, then Clark. While she sliced the spaghetti on Clark's plate into bite-sized pieces, Jonathan served himself, and then Martha took what remained in the bowl.   
  
"So, you're what? Nine?" Jonathan asked, making conversation.  
  
"Yes, sir." Lex responded, stunning Martha and Jonathan with the ease with which he rolled the pasta onto his fork.  
  
"So then, you're in . . . third grade?"  
  
"No, sir. Fourth." He looked down at his plate. "They gave me some tests."  
  
Jonathan assumed he must be talking about placement tests, rather than medical tests. "Oh."  
  
"Do you enjoy living with the Johanssens?" Martha asked.  
  
"I don't know." Lex responded. "There are a lot of children in the house."  
  
"And you're used to being an only child." Martha said understandingly.  
  
Lex let that comment go without response, silently slipping back into that odd communion he had found with Clark.  
  
Soon, the meal was over, and the stilted conversation could mercifully be put to an end. "Would you like me to drive you back to your house?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Yes, please." Lex said, meeting Clark's eyes once again.   
  
He walked over to Clark and they touched their hands to each other's, as if reassuring themselves of each other's reality. "May I come back tomorrow after school?" Lex asked.  
  
"If you don't have any homework." Martha, ever the mother, said. Then she caved, just a little, "Or if you do, you can do it here."  
  
Lex smiled at her. A rare, genuine, warm smile. The kind he'd once shared with his mother, and now seemed only to find with Clark. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."  
  
Jonathan and Lex left for the inevitably-silent ride back to town.  
  
"You'd better start getting ready for bed, Clark." Martha told her son. "I'll let you stay up until your dad gets home, but then it's off to bed for you."  
  
Clark happily trotted off towards the stairs, then turned back to face Martha. "Mom." He said, just as clearly as if he'd been speaking for years.   
  
Before she knew what was happening, Martha was on the floor, kneeling by her son. "What was that?"  
  
"Mom." Clark said, just as clearly, and beamed at her warmly.   
  
When Jonathan returned home from the Johanssens', he found his wife crying tears of pure joy. Clark's bedtime was postponed that night. 


	2. Why Aren't You Wearing Your Wig, Lex?

Title: Baby!Clex Story -- Chapter 2 "Why Aren't You Wearing Your Wig, Lex?"   
Author: PepperjackCandy Series: Comes after "He Followed Me Home . . ."   
Archive : Smallville Slash Archive, LexSlash, my writing at fanfiction.net   
Rating: PG (Probably "G," but what the heck)   
Pairing: Clark/Lex   
Category: Pre-slash friendship fic, for now. Archived under "AU," since "friendship" isn't an option   
Spoilers for: Nothing. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics. 

Feedback: Always welcome, either by e-mail or using the review system at fanfiction.net. 

A/N: Mrs. Loeb is actually a grown up Olga Pataki from "Hey, Arnold!" http://netvista.net/~del_grande/Olga1.jpg Yeah, she's a cartoon character. What of it? Everyone else here are comic book characters. ;-)

=========

"Lex! Mom sent me up here to get you up." Joan, the eldest of the Johanssens' three daughters, said as she took the pillow from off Lex's head.

"Go away." He moaned, trying to grab the pillow from her.

She dangled it out of his grasp. "Uh-uh. You've got to get downstairs for breakfast pronto." 

_Pronto?_ Lex wondered. _Apparently, people really talk like that around here._

"All right." He moaned as he rose to a sitting position. "I'm up."

Joan flounced out the bedroom door, leaving him alone in the bedroom that he shared with three other foster sons. Lex sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, just remembering the previous day, the strange, comfortable bond he'd found with the silent orphan child. _Did any of that really happen? Or was it just a very . . . odd . . . dream?_

As more memories surfaced, Martha Kent's expression when Clark brought him home, eating dinner in the Kent household, returning home in Jonathan Kent's truck to find that Carl had found his abandoned wig, full of leaves from where it had landed on the ground, and brought it home, Lex decided that it must have been real. 

Yawning, he rubbed his face and headed off to the bathroom.

Minutes later, cleaned up and dressed, Lex presented himself for breakfast. The other three foster boys, Carl, Doug and Tim were already seated at the boys' table, presided over by Mr. Johanssen.

Lex joined them as Mrs. Johanssen bustled past, handing his wig to him. "Don't forget that, Lex."

Lex's lip curled up reflexively as he regarded the thing. "I'll put it on later." He said.

"Just don't forget. That's a very expensive wig, young man."

Lex ate his breakfast in silence, every once in a while catching one of the older foster boys, Tim, watching him. Whenever he looked directly at him, though, Tim looked away.

Finally, Lex looked up quickly enough to catch Tim. And as he watched, Tim glanced down at the wig, then winked up at him.

Lex had only a moment to wonder what Tim meant before Tim stood and dashed for the door, pulling a lighter from his pocket and setting fire to one of Mrs. Johanssen's dishtowels on his way out.

Lex knew this was his cue to leave. He stuffed the wig unceremoniously into his book bag and followed Tim out the door while the fire had the rest of the family distracted.

Tim was loping along casually, apparently waiting for Lex to catch up to him, because once Lex did, Tim grinned at him. 

"Thanks." Lex said. "I'm never wearing that thing again."

"Well, I can't set fire to a dishtowel every morning." Tim pointed out.

Lex shrugged. "After I get through today, maybe they'll leave me alone."

"What's today?"

Lex shrugged. "Just, you know, I guess once I've gone a whole day at school without that thing, maybe Mrs. Johanssen will accept that I don't need it."

Tim snorted. "Not likely."

"Well, maybe I can dazzle her with my grades. I am a genius, after all."

"Maybe. You're a weird kid. But I think we'll get along." Tim turned off of the path they were on, heading towards the middle school, as Lex continued on to the elementary school.

Lex continued on to school, skulking around the playground until the bell rang to begin school.

He ambled slowly into Mrs. Loeb's classroom, trying to slide into his seat directly in the center of the room unobtrusively, ignoring the snickers of his classmates.

Mrs. Loeb, a thin woman with blonde hair pulled up in a bun, turned around. "What are you all . . . Lex Luthor. Why aren't you wearing your wig?"

Lex shrugged, trying to affect nonchalance. "Didn't feel like it."

She put her hands on her hips and looked at him with an almost pleading expression. "All the experts say that you'll be happier if you wear it."

Lex looked up at her calmly. "No."

"No?" "I won't wear it. It . . . it itches." 

Lex felt bad about the admission, especially since his classmates started giggling again. But apparently, this was the right card to play, because Mrs. Loeb just sighed. "All right," she said resignedly.

She turned back to the blackboard. "Everyone take out your Language Arts books."

***

Lex had to stay in during recess to get his homework done. It was tempting to not do his homework again, just to avoid the next day's recesses as well. However, Mrs. Loeb had explained to him that would lower his grades, which were Lex's only remaining source of vanity. Consequently, it was with a very light heart and a very heavy bookbag, Lex walked to the Kent family farm.

He arrived to find Jonathan leading a recalcitrant bay mare out of the barn. Jonathan clucked at the horse uselessly as he tried to lead it by the reins.

Lex dropped his bookbag on the ground. "Hi, Mr. Kent! Can I do that for you?"

Jonathan glowered at the small boy. "I don't think you . . . ." Then he watched, dumbfounded, as Lex grinned up at the horse and held out a hand, and the horse lowered her nose to be patted.

Lex took the reins from Jonathan's nerveless fingers and asked, "You want her in the corral over there?"

"Yes, please."

Martha came to the door, followed closely by Clark. "Jonathan, I told you that I'd . . . Lex."

Lex closed the corral door and smiled at Martha. "Hi, Mrs. Kent!"

Clark came out from behind his mother and ran down the stairs towards his friend. He skidded to a stop in the dust just in front of Lex, cupping Lex's face gently in his hands as he stared into Lex's blue eyes. "Lex." He said clearly, smiling widely.

Lex smiled at Martha, who had hurried down the stairs and crouched on the ground near the boys, placing one hand at the back of each boy's head. "He said my name."

"He started talking last night. Just like that. All he says is Mom, and Dad, and, apparently, Lex."

"He'll say more soon." Lex said, perfect assurance in his voice. 

"Lex," Jonathan interrupted them. "How did you do that?"

"What?"

"Get Devana into the corral."

"Devana?"

"Pretty name, isn't it?" Martha asked. "She's my horse. She's named after the Czech goddess of the hunt. And she usually doesn't allow strangers to handle her." She glanced up at her husband, obviously trying not to laugh. "After ten years of marriage, she still considers Jonathan to be a stranger."

Lex shrugged. "I've taken horseback riding lessons since before I can remember."

Martha stood and directed the two boys into the house. "English or western?"

"English. Though my mom had me take western for a while. She said that western would be more useful."

"It is. At least around here. Some people show their horses, but Devana's just for pleasure anymore. You're welcome to take her out occasionally. Some days I have a hard time getting out to exercise her. Especially now that we have Clark."

Lex's eyes shone as he looked up at Martha. "I'd love to, Mrs. Kent."

"Well, then. We have a deal."

Lex followed Clark and Martha into the house. 

"I . . . I've got some homework to do. Can I do it here, or should I wait until I get back to the Johanssens'?"

Martha noticed that Lex didn't refer to his foster family's house as 'home,' but figured that would come with time. "Of course you may do your homework here, Lex."

"But what about Clark?"

"Somehow, I think that Clark's just happy to have you here." Martha said with a smile.

Lex noticed that Clark was standing there at his elbow, a worshipful expression on his face. "I guess he is." Lex said with a gentle smile.

Lex put his bookbag down on the kitchen floor and took out his math homework - a worksheet of single-digit multiplication problems. He sighed and took out a pencil, taking a seat at the table.

"That difficult?" Martha asked.

"No. That easy. I can't believe this. We put this sort of thing behind us last year at my old school." Lex sat down on one of the chairs; Clark scrambled up into the chair next to his. 

Lex began to fill in the worksheet as quickly as he could write down the answers. _Four times seven is twenty-eight; nine times five is forty-five; three times eight is twenty-four . . ._ He stopped when he felt Clark's gaze on him. He looked up.

Silently, Clark looked pointedly at the paper and pencil, then looked a question up at Lex.

"It's homework, Clark. My teacher wants to see that I know this, so I have to fill it out."

Clark looked down at the paper and pencil again, then back up at Lex. 

"It's multiplication. I don't think you're up to that yet. Here." He reached into his bag and pulled out his pad of paper and another pencil, which he gave to Clark.

Clark grinned and copied the way Lex held his pencil. Then, he squinted down at it and switched it to his right hand, mirroring Lex's grip. Smiling, he proceeded to scribble on his paper as Lex finished the worksheet.

Martha buzzed around the kitchen as Lex zipped through the rest of his homework, Clark happily keeping himself occupied mimicking Lex's activities.

"Will you be staying to dinner?" Martha asked as she moved to take the dishes out of the cabinet. 

"If I'm welcome, then I'd be happy to." 

"Of *course* you're welcome." Martha admonished him gently, taking four plates out of the cabinet.

Jonathan, just coming in from the fields, stopped outside the back door, watching Martha and the two boys. Martha was born to be a mother, and Jonathan just knew that she'd make another bid to adopt the Luthor kid. He only hoped he had the strength to resist her pleas again.

After dinner, Jonathan dropped Lex off at the Johanssens' house.

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kent." Lex said with his best manners.

"You're welcome, Lex." Jonathan responded reluctantly.

Lex walked into the house. The hallway leading to the stairs passed by the kitchen, and he overheard them talking. 

" . . . don't care about that, Martin. That boy's a danger to all of us."

"I just think we should give Tim another chance." Lex heard Mr. Johanssen say calmly.

"How many second chances is he going to get?"

"Just one more. Then we'll return him to social services. I promise."

"So he'll be gone by the end of . . . "

Lex's blood ran cold. _Tim's the only person here who's even tried to be nice to me. If they send Tim away, it'll just be me against Carl and Doug and the Johanssens._

Quickly, quietly, before the Johanssens could hear him outside the kitchen, Lex hurried upstairs.

Carl and Doug were apparently in the TV room, as Tim was alone in the boys' bedroom, staring blankly at a clean sheet of paper on his desk.

Lex dropped his bookbag on his desk and went to stand behind Tim. "323 square meters."

"Huh?"

"That's how much carpeting you'd have to buy to carpet a 17 meter by 19 meter room."

Tim looked up at Lex. "Thanks." He wrote the answer down on the blank sheet of paper.

Lex continued standing there.

Tim looked up at him. "So, you wanna answer number two for me, too?"

"Actually, I want to talk to you." 

"Yeah?"

"I just heard the Johanssens talking. They're thinking of sending you back to social services."

Tim shrugged. "Took longer than I thought."

"You *want* them to send you back?"

"That's how it goes. You get kicked out of one place, they send you somewhere else."

"But you don't want to go?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Yes. You do. Mr. Johanssen has convinced Mrs. Johanssen to give you another chance."

"Why do you care?"

"Because. You're the only person here who's been anything like friendly to me."

"Really?"

Lex nodded silently. 

"Well, I guess I'll think about it then." Tim gave Lex a tentative half-smile, which Lex returned in exactly the same experimental fashion.

Lex turned back towards his bed, then back to Tim. "Oh, and 13,816 pounds."

"What?"

"That's how much seed you'd need to cover a 1,256 square meter field."

"Thanks."

***

Clark had gone to bed, and Jonathan and Martha were discussing Martha's desire to adopt Lex.

"No. I absolutely will *not* take Lex Luthor to raise." Jonathan said adamantly.

"Why not?"

"I refuse to have any member of Lionel Luthor's family living in this house."

"That's terrible, Jonathan! He's not to blame for the things his father did."

"Lionel Luthor has raised that child. Think, Martha. Think what Lionel Luthor would have done if he'd found that pod in our storm cellar."

Martha's jaw dropped and her skin blanched.

"Exactly. He can come visit you and Clark whenever he wants. As long as he's *visiting.* I don't want him having the free run of this place."

"As much as I don't want to admit it, you're right. Lex is safe, and if it really will keep Clark safe here, I guess I can leave him there," Martha sighed, wishing she had another option. 


	3. Did You Write This, Honey?

Title: Baby!Clex Story -- Chapter 3, "Did you write this, honey?"  
Author: PepperjackCandy  
Series: Yes  
Rating: PG (Probably "G," but what the heck)  
Pairing: Clark/Lex  
Category: Pre-slash friendship fic, for now.   
Spoilers for: Nothing.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics.   
  
Feedback: Always welcome, either by e-mail, using the review system at fanfiction.net, or you may leave a comment at my lj ()

=========  
  
The next morning, Lex arose at the same time as the other boys, dutifully waited for his assigned shower time, which, as both the youngest and the newest arrival, was after the other boys had showered, and then headed downstairs to breakfast.  
  
He slid into his seat at the boys' table, overwhelmed by the uncomfortable silence in the room. Lex didn't dare ask what had happened.  
  
The meal passed in a silence broken only by the clatter of silverware on dishes and occasional munching sounds.  
  
Everyone in the room, save Lex, flinched when Tim spoke up. "Please pass the orange juice."  
  
Warily, Doug passed the juice to Mr. Johanssen, who silently passed it to Tim.   
  
"Thank you." Tim responded politely.  
  
Silence descended again, and continued until time for the children to leave for school.  
  
Carl and Doug walked towards the center of town together, Tim ahead of them, Lex trailing behind them. Then, Tim slowed to a stop, allowing Carl and Doug to pass him. "So, what did you think?" He asked Lex once they were even.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"This morning. Do you think my apology went well?"  
  
"You apologized?"  
  
"Yeah. I think they were more surprised by that than they were when I set fire to the kitchen towel yesterday. Who knows how long I can keep them off-balance with this?" He shrugged. "It'll be fun finding out."  
  
They'd reached the turnoff for the middle school. Tim took it. "See you back at the house."  
  
"Yeah. See you later." Lex smiled as he continued on to the elementary school.  
  
***  
  
After school, Lex headed directly for the Kent farm, his book bag overflowing with homework.   
  
Lex arrived in the Kent family's yard, to see Jonathan leading a recalcitrant Devana out of the barn. "Martha wanted to know, whoa, there, girl, if you'd like to exercise Devana for a while."  
  
Lex's eyes lit up with delight. "Oh, yes, please, Mr. Kent."  
  
"Do I have . . . I mean, should I tack her up for you?"  
  
"No, thank you, Mr. Kent. I can do it myself." Lex tried to restrain himself from smiling at the obvious relief on Jonathan's face when he said this. Without saying anything, he took the lead from Jonathan's hand and led Devana to the corral.  
  
"She's all curried and brushed. I'll bring the saddle and bridle out and leave them over the railing for you, all right?"  
  
"Yes. Thank you, Mr. Kent."  
  
Lex led Devana the rest of the way to the corral, while Jonathan went back to the barn for her tack.   
  
"Where's Clark?" Lex asked as he picked up the saddle pad and threw it over her back.   
  
"He's still taking his nap, I expect. That's why Martha sent me out here to ask if you wanted to exercise her. I'll go in the house and get a couple of carrots for you."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Kent."  
  
While Jonathan was in the house, Lex finished tacking Devana up, and before he put the bit in her mouth, he took a piece of carrot from Jonathan and fed it to her, stroking her nose and praising her as he did so. Once she'd finished the carrot, he put the bit in her mouth and swung up into the saddle.  
  
Jonathan watched Lex walk her around the corral a few times, then deciding that Lex was a competent enough horseman, he went on about his chores.  
  
Lex had just advanced Devana from a trot to a canter and was beginning to wonder if he it would be possible to jump a horse in Western tack as the back door of the house sprung open.   
  
"Lex!" Clark cried, running to the corral.  
  
Lex began to slow Devana back down to a trot, but was astonished when Clark sped up to keep up with the horse.  
  
He went one more time around the corral, then brought Devana to a stop. He dismounted and grinned at Clark, who was obviously winded from the exertion. "Hi, Clark. This is Devana. Your mom's horse." He said, keeping the reins in his hand as he approached the rail.  
  
"Devana. Mom. Horse." Clark responded clearly, his panting having slowed to normal breathing.  
  
Lex laid the reins across the railing. "Your language skills seem to be improving." He said to Clark as he walked to the railing.  
  
"Clark! There you are!" Martha panted as she ran down the steps of the back porch. When she saw Lex, she laughed. "Hello, Lex. He was sleeping so nicely, and then suddenly I heard the back door slam. I went to check on him and he was gone. I should have known it was you."  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Kent." Lex touched Devana's breast to see if she was cooled down enough to be allowed to eat. Judging that she was, he began to remove her bit and bridle. "Clark said, 'horse' just now."  
  
"You did!" Martha looked down at Clark.  
  
Clark grinned up at her and said, clearly, "Horse. Devana. Mom. Lex."  
  
Martha looked over at Lex, a playful astonishment on her face. "Once you finish untacking her, just leave her in the corral. Mr. Kent will put her back in her stall. Then you and Clark can come inside and have a snack."  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Kent."   
  
The trio trooped into the house, where Lex and Clark sat at the kitchen table. As he had done the previous afternoon, Lex pulled out two sheets of paper and two pencils, setting one of each in front of Clark.  
  
Today, though, rather than picking up the pencil immediately, Clark watched Lex as Lex picked up his pencil and began to write.  
  
As Lex wrote his name in the upper right-hand corner of the paper, he saw Clark begin to make markings in the upper right-hand corner of his paper. He finished his name and looked over at Clark's paper.  
  
_Lex Luthor._  
  
Lex realized immediately that Clark hadn't just been copying his own movements; Clark's handwriting was different from his.  
  
"You should be writing your own name, Clark." Lex put his pencil on the top line and wrote _Clark Kent._  
  
_Clark Kent_.  
  
Lex pointed to _Clark,_ "Clark." He said clearly, then pointing at _Kent,_ "Kent."  
  
Clark duplicated Lex's pointing, saying, "Cark. Kent."  
  
Clark studied the page for a moment.  
  
_Clarc_, he wrote, then on the next line, _Klark_.  
  
"Clark," he pointed to the first, "Clark," he pointed to the second, then looked up at Lex inquiringly.  
  
"Yes, both the C and the K in your name are pronounced the same way. I don't know why you have one of each, though."  
  
"One of each what?" Martha asked as she came back into the kitchen.  
  
"A C and a K. In his name."  
  
Martha came forward to read over Clark's shoulder. Her jaw dropped. "Did you write this, honey?" She put her hand on Clark's shoulder.  
  
"Yes, he did," Lex answered for him.   
  
"That's wonderful, Clark!" Martha hunkered down next to her son and gave him a hug. "And your name is spelled C-L-A-R-K," she pointed at the letters as she said them, "because that was my last name before I married your daddy."  
  
Lex realized that he wasn't going to get any of his math homework done so long as Clark was doing what he was doing. "Mrs. Kent?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Does Clark have any books to read?"  
  
"A couple of Dr. Seuss books."  
  
Lex nodded. "I've got some reading to do in my Social Studies book. Geography," he rolled his eyes. "Where do you keep Clark's books?"  
  
"I'll go get them."  
  
The two boys spent the next hour reading in tandem, Clark dutifully turning pages along with Lex. Lex knew it couldn't possibly take him as long to read, _Pup. Cup. Pup in cup. Cup. Pup. Cup on pup_ as it had for Lex to read two pages of his social studies book, but it reassured him that he'd made the right call to do some reading rather than his math homework.  
  
Finally, Lex finished the chapter and looked up at the clock. "I should probably be getting back to the Johanssens' house," he sighed.  
  
Martha nodded. "Would you like a ride back?"  
  
"No, thank you, Mrs. Kent." Lex stood and put his social studies book back in his book bag. "I'll see you tomorrow, Clark."  
  
Wordlessly, Clark stood and gave Lex a hug goodbye, "Lex," he said simply as he let go.  
  
Smiling, Lex hoisted his book bag onto his shoulder and headed off towards his foster family's house. 


End file.
